


The Feral Son

by EatTheRudeLambs (RowanRiordan)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: All kinds of sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Kink, Cannibalism, Dom/sub Undertones, Father!Hannibal, GRAPHIC DEAD STUFF, Hannibal deals with a rude son, Illegitimate Children, Lots of it, Lots of stuff happens, M/M, Multi, Murder Dads, OC deaths, Polyamorous Relationships, Prostitution, Sex Work, Smut, and the side affects of cannibalism, lets explore parenting, rebellious teenagers are a pain, sorry Abigail is still dead, tw: terminal illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanRiordan/pseuds/EatTheRudeLambs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a slightly unstable police officer. Hannibal Lecter is his psychiatrist, helping him get through his daily grind. But when Will's work has to come home with Hannibal, things get much more complicated. Niether Graham or Lecter ever wanted to be a father. </p><p>Sometimes the most unlikely of families work out well.</p><p>And sometimes they fail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Feral Son

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad for working on three fics at the same time, but this one simply could not wait until I was done with one of the other two. I really really hope you all like this, if there is any background information you need cleared up, please let me know! I will be happy to answer any questions.
> 
> A note before we begin: Will lives in Baltimore in this.

They usually did regular busts. This had been pitched to them as a drug bust. A club dealing out of its basement, go in a clear out the product. The full-blown underage prostitution ring was not expected. 

That was how Will had gotten two (barely) sixteen year old boys in the back of his cruiser. One of them had given him an address but the other one... 

There was something about the blonde’s cheek bones, the curve of his jaw, shape of his eyes. He kept rolling his lips irritably, a creepingly familiar motion. He shook the feeling off, blaming it on a long night as he took the two into the station. 

Most of the prostitutes had families and after being served a ticket and a court date they were sent home. The majority of them were young men, underage and foreign, but citizens. But the blonde boy had no address, his fingerprints ran nearly nothing- a few misdemeanors- and his citizenship status was spotty. 

“Graham. You talk to him. Do your... feelings thing.” Will sighed. He didn’t want to talk to the boy, but it was his job. Hard to get the things he’d seen out of his head when he entered the interrogation room where they’d been keeping him. He sat with his arms crossed, very tall for his age, taller then Will was, and wearing very little- only what he could pull on before being cuffed. The image of him with his back arched on top of one of the older men they had in the pen down stairs was still vivid. Seated across from the blonde, he offered a glass of water. 

“Do you have any relatives?” He uncrossed and recrossed his arms.

“A father, somewhere around here but fuck if I know where he is.” Will nodded and the boy looked him over, palming his biceps. Reflexively, Will shouldered off his jacket and passed it across the table. There was a brief moment of indecision before it was taken from him. Though too small, the other still put it on. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Mika.”

“Last name?” More hesitation. 

“Legally, whatever my father’s is. But I’m not sure. I uh... I got by Smith.” He had a mild accent, and Will’s eyes strayed from his face, toward scars that marred his chest where it was exposed under the jacket, small freckles on the skin. Had had virtually no body hair, but Will thought that might come from shaving. 

“Where are you from? Family there?” 

“Lithuania. No family there. My mother died here, looking for my father.” The inside of his cheek was getting sore from chewing it. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. He could feel the apprehension coming from this kid, but more so panic and fear. He had no idea what to do in this country, having grown up elsewhere and the only place he’d ever lived was under that club, turning tricks. Two years he’d been in the States and hardly been out of his little world, consumed by drugs and sex and the grief of his late mother, who never did contact the father they were looking for. He knew little about the man, no name it seemed, but felt a familial sense about him.

“You have a picture of him? We could help you find him.” He relaxed slightly, nodding. 

“I do. It’s in my room, with all of my papers and such.” Will grasped this for a moment, then left the room silently. 

 

“He isn’t aware of his last name at all, but he does have a father in this area.” Will reported back to his lieutenant, wondering if this was a good idea.

“All of his identification is in the club. He’s got nowhere to go. Maybe... he could stay with me until tomorrow when we can retrieve his information?” His boss didn’t look too happy about the whole situation, but waved his hand dismissively. 

“Sure, sure, I just want to get these kids processed as fast as I can. This is a bunch of paperwork I didn’t need.” Will left him with that, returning to collect his temporary charge.

The boy didn’t seem to mind going with Will, actually seemed relieved at not sleeping in the cells. He was most notable about apologizing for his indecency, wearing only Will’s jacket, what Will had thought were shorts, but now were revealed as a short skirt and a pair of sandals. 

“I’m sorry about imposing.” 

“It’s really no problem. I just want to help you.” He did want to help. Maybe it was the strange way the boy’s face haunted him, too familiar, or it was how he could connect with the youth, the loss of his mother, of his purpose, the reliance on destructive outlets for his pent up emotion. Will had been in that place once when he was younger as well. 

 

“I’ll warn you about the dogs. They won’t jump or bite, but I have seven.” Will unlocked the door to his small house. He lived in this most suburban area of Baltimore he could find, seeking seclusion in metropolis. 

The dog pack greeted him happily, ready to sniff the newcomer. The officer left the animals to his guest as he went to retrieve sheets and a pillow for the couch, where he intended to sleep. The bedding was taken from him however and the boy, Mika, took the couch instead. 

“I refuse to impose on you. You’re being kind to me. I’ve slept in worse conditions.” This thought still plagued him after he’d retired, his dogs around him, his day meant to be forgotten. But Mika was on his mind, the understanding of how terrifying it was to be somewhere you had no idea about, utterly alone and forced into sex with strangers for a year of your life, never knowing whether or not you’d connect with your lost family member. 

And of course, there was the image his back arched, mouth wide open, sweat glistening on his chest. He couldn’t get the picture out of his head. 

He couldn’t fight off what a resemblance it had to his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this as much as you enjoy my other fics! Please leave me some feedback in the comments or stop by my ask at eattherudelambs.tumblr.com (alternately, email me! eattherudelambs@gmail.com). 
> 
> Another clarification: Will isn't attracted to Mika, he's empathizing and mildly traumatized. 
> 
>  
> 
> _cos·tal_  
>  /ˈkästəl/  
> Adjective  
> Of or relating to the ribs.
> 
>  
> 
> For anyone who wanted to know.


End file.
